


Poker Face

by NoNamesFromCats



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Awkward Conversations, Canon Bisexual Character, Coming Out, Erratic Adrian, F/M, Nervous Rosa, Origami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 23:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoNamesFromCats/pseuds/NoNamesFromCats
Summary: She was gonna marry the guy, maybe it was time she opened up a bit...Rosa grapples with the idea of coming out to her fiancé. Set during episode 4x06 “Monster in the Closet”.





	Poker Face

Rosa Diaz turned the key in the apartment lock. It had been a long, yet satisfying day. She'd finally caught that drug dealer she'd been after, chased him down and found half a kilo of coke, _in his sock_. And oh, yeah, she and Adrian had gotten engaged.

She grinned to herself. Not a bad day at all. So, okay, maybe the squad had looked kinda shell-shocked when they'd told them, and her parents had sounded a little weird on the phone when she'd invited them to the wedding next week, and okay, it was just last year that she hadn't been ready to get married, but now—with Adrian—it just felt right.

She turned the knob but the door didn't budge. She frowned, sure she'd gotten the address right. Since they were getting hitched, it seemed only natural they should finally see each other's places. 

She knocked on the door. “Hey, Adrian, open up.”

“What's the code word?” came a hoarse whisper from behind the door.

“Uh.” She dug through her pockets and retrieved the crumpled piece of paper he'd pressed into her hand and insisted she burn after committing the contents to memory. “Olive,” she read.

“What's the backup code word?”

She rolled her eyes and attempted to decipher the second word he'd scrawled. “Snickerdoodle.”

“And the backup backup code word?”

She turned the paper over. It was blank. “There is none.”

“Aha! You passed the test!” There was the sound of locks turning—a lot of locks turning--and Adrian Pimento opened the door. He was wearing something that looked like a cross between a martial arts outfit and a bathrobe. Not quite sexy, not quite ridiculous—but with his wild eyes and wilder hair, it sort of worked.

She stepped inside the dim apartment and saw the exact amount of weapons she had expected. He had an arsenal equal to her own, except his were all out in the open, hanging from hat racks and piled on furniture. She noted smugly that he didn't have an axe.

She nodded her approval. “Nice place.”

She glanced back at him and the moment their eyes connected, the heat rose between them, that dark urgency that had brought them together from the start. She grabbed him by the lapels and shoved him against the door, their mouths already open as they met in a frenzied kiss. She could feel the outline of the holstered gun at his side, the knife sheathed at his thigh and one more weapon, that bucked against her...

She remembered herself and pulled away. She couldn't get caught up, not yet.

She tried to give him a no-nonsense look, but the fire in his eyes made her want to rip his kimono-thing off. With her teeth. 

_Just get a hold of yourself._

“Adrian, we need to talk.”

He raised eyebrow. “Yeah, we do.” 

She paused, taken aback. Was he having second thoughts already? He grabbed her wrist and she let him lead her into a kitchen that looked like a cross between Nancy Meyers and Mike Meyers. Pale wood cabinets were splattered in something dark and reddy-brown. There were knives protruding from surfaces not meant to hold them and a bowl of once-colorful fruit looked suspiciously off. 

“What is that smell?” She wrinkled her nose. Something was cooking, or rather burning, but she couldn't tell if it was intentional or not.

“Surprise! I'm making you dinner to celebrate. I couldn't find the pheasant, but the guy in the parking lot said it _totally_ tastes the same,” he said as he clambered onto a metal table and proceeded to sit cross-legged in the middle of it, an old laptop balanced between his knees. 

“Adrian, I have something I gotta tell you.”

“It's an old family recipe,” he went on, captivated by something on the screen, not taking the hint that she wanted his attention. “Got it off the internet. Did you know, you can get _anything_ on the internet? Like now, I'm learning the ancient art of origami. They used to train _warriors_ with this!” He began furiously folding a sheaf of newspaper.

She was pretty sure he'd got that wrong, but she liked the way he concentrated without blinking--that manic look in his eye, his jaw taut...

Focus. She had to do this now. She couldn't marry the guy without telling him.

After all, he'd peeled back the layers and shown her the Real Adrian. This was as close as she knew how to get to the Real Rosa. And she needed to know how he'd react.

“Adrian.” She said it more sharply than she'd mean to. 

He looked up, instantly alert. “Yeah?”

Crap. Her stomach clenched, all her feelings for him mixing with all her fear that this could be the kiss of death for their relationship.

She took a breath and let it out. “I'm bisexual.” 

“Hot,” he said, and went back to folding paper. 

She narrowed her eyes, wondering if he knew that that response from anyone else would have earned a punch to the neck so hard they'd be spitting out her fingernails. Then again, he'd said the same thing when she'd told him her parents were teachers.

“Hey,” his eyes brightened. “Do you know who _else_ does origami? _Lady freakin' Gaga_. Well, she wears it, but it _totally_ counts--”

She couldn't tell if he was brushing her off or not. “I'm serious.”

“So am I! You do _not_ joke about the Mother Monster, _especially_ online. Some twelve year old threatened to rip my heart out, but I _doubt_ she's got the upper body strength.” He went on folding, his tongue nearly protruding from the effort.

Rosa swallowed. She had to ask the question burning in her throat. “You still wanna get married?”

He looked up again, this time in alarm. “What? Are you having second thoughts? If it's because you found my stash of quail eggs, I _swear_ those are strictly for aphrodisiac purposes...”

She shook her head, “No. Adrian--” she started, frustrated that she had to explain, but then she realized what had happened.

She'd done it. She'd come out to him and he hadn't freaked out or asked excruciating questions or suggested a threesome with a chick. And he'd mentioned Lady Gaga. In his own Adrian-y way, he had completely accepted it, just like he seemed to accept everything else she'd let him know about her.

She suddenly felt lighter than she had in a long time. 

“I still wanna get married,” she told him. The look of relief on his face buoyed her further. 

“Well, that's a relief, because I already registered us at Tiffany's. Do you know they make throwing stars now? Aha!” He let out a victory scream and unfurled his hand with a flourish, revealing a crumpled bit of paper, teetering precariously on a torn edge. She squinted at it.

“It's a water buffalo,” he exclaimed proudly. “For you.”

“Adrian--” _You make no sense. You're fucking crazy. I love you._ Her lips curled into a smile with a wicked edge. “I wanna eat your face off,” she said.

He grinned back, his eyes flashing. “Aww, you guessed dessert!”

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered if Rosa came out to Pimento, and how it would have gone...  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
